


cold syrup and an excuse to see you

by erzi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2179878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erzi/pseuds/erzi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey, Suga?”</p>
<p>He sniffles. “Hmm?”</p>
<p>“Don't ever get sick again.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	cold syrup and an excuse to see you

“What flavor did you say again?” Daichi asks, carefully balancing his cellphone between ear and shoulder as he picks up a cold syrup bottle at random.

“Ch-” There is a loud but somewhat distant-sounding cough on the other line, as the other person tries to do so away from the phone. “Cherry.”

Daichi puts the bottle back down, which appears to be grape, and grabs the appropriate one. “I don't know how you can even be picky about the flavor of your medicine,” he says with a grimace, changing his grasp on the phone by holding it lightly to his ear, “It all tastes nasty.”

The other person laughs, but in his sickness, the usual brightness to it has become murky congestion. “I think some taste worse than others, and cherry is the _least_ worst. Just bring it as soon as you can, please.”

“Yeah, I'm making my way to the register.” He walks briskly, still on the phone. A few seconds of silence tick by. “Hey, Suga?”

He sniffles. “Hmm?”

“Don't ever get sick again.”

Suga laughs again, louder. “And why's that?”

Daichi groans. “I don't know how you can handle how whiny the team is. You're the supportive one with nothing but kind things to say, and I'm the one that knocks sense into them. It works out when there's two of us. I can’t pull off both; they've not been taking me very seriously when I try to be your level of nice.” He's at the register now, sets down the syrup and the other items that he hadn’t been asked to buy but he felt were needed regardless. “They just mock me.”

“Aw. I'm sorry. I'll talk to them when I can go back.”

“But also-” He stops, tasting the words that are left hanging off his tongue. “Never mind,” he say, reeling them back in. They were going to be very stupid words. The cashier tells him how much he owes and he pulls out the wads of money. The crackle of pensive silence on the other line is deafening.

“No... finish that thought.”

“It doesn't matter,” he says quickly, “I'm done paying, so I'm on my way to your house. You best be glad I value you over the meter-high stack of homework I have to do. See you in a bit, Suga.” He hangs up and only realizes then what he's just said. 

* * *

 Suga's mother answers the door, and Daichi smiles a bit. “Hello, Daichi!” She greets him with a beam, radiating friendliness. He certainly knows who Suga takes after. “I know about the errand Suga made you run in my place, and I can’t thank you enough. Come in, come in; he's in his room. I'll have to bake you something in return, you just tell me what!”

“Oh, that's not necessary,” he says, waving his hand casually. It's only a little lie. He doesn't mind doing favors for his best friend at all, but neither does Daichi mind Suga's mother's cooking. “It's no trouble.”

“Don't be so modest! You'll be getting cake in the near future!” she calls as he runs up the stairs. He does a private fistpump when he's out of her view. The cheerful spirit flits away as he arrives at Suga's door, and suddenly his stomach is full of ice. He takes a deep, slow breath and opens the door, his best attempt at an easygoing smile gracing his face.

“Hi,” he says as Suga turns his head to see who's come in. Suga smiles back, but it's not his usual brilliant one; it's tired and worn.

“Hi yourself,” he replies, voice groggier in person than over the phone. He drops his voice and narrows his eyes into mischievous slits. “You got my drugs?”

Daichi laughs, and he wonders for a moment why he was nervous about coming to see his best friend like he'd done so often, but then he remembers. He nervously licks his lips. “I do,” he says, rummaging through the plastic bag hanging around his wrist, pulling the medicine out. “Cherry, just like you like it.”

“Ha, I wouldn't qui-” Suga stops, a strong cough rattling his chest, throwing him forward. Without a thought, Daichi reaches his arms out as if his friend were about to fall and he were to catch him. Suga waves him off, indicating he's alright. He clears his throat and tries to smile again, but it's so forced it breaks Daichi's heart. “I wouldn't quite say I like it. It's just, like I said, the least worst.” He pauses a moment. “I hate to ask another favor, but can you open it for me? My arms are so tired, I think I'll need to relearn how to set when I go back.”

“Jesus, Suga, it's not like we're just acquaintances,” Daichi says, twisting the cap off its plastic wrap, “You don't have to ask favors at this point, you know. You just say what and I'll do it gladly.”

“Thank you,” the other replies with a small upwards quirk of his lips, “Sorry.”

“Don't apologize either!” Daichi pours the required medicine amount and hands it Suga. “Here, drink.”

Suga stares at the liquid longer than someone should. His eyes then turn to Daichi, slowly. “Thank you,” he repeats, but he sounds different this time, like these aren't just general proper words of gratitude, but words tailored just for Daichi's ears. Daichi feels his cheeks tingle. Suga sips the medicine quickly and gasps when he's done. “God, that's strong,” he mutters. His eyes dart down to the plastic bag, only now aware there are other items there. “What's the rest? Don't tell me you bought like ten bottles of cold syrup.”

“Ah.” Daichi's cheeks are definitely warm now. “I, uh. I got you some, um, other things.” He painfully pulls out a get-well card, a squishy, small volleyball plush, and a gift card to Suga's favorite restaurant. His entire body feels like it's on fire; he had been hoping to leave the other things by Suga's bed and then promptly leave so he wouldn't have to face this sort of embarrassment, but here he is. He avoids Suga's glance, and does not note the affection in it.

“That's... really sweet of you,” Suga croaks, and that gets Daichi to face him again. Suga's cheeks are dusted pink.

“The gift card is a gift card because you can’t really taste anything now, so it's for you to buy food later, when you can,” he says dumbly, “The rest is just, uh, usual stuff you give to sick friends, I guess.”

Suga takes the volleyball and squeezes it. “That's really cute,” he mumbles, but Daichi doesn’t know if he means the volleyball or his gesture. Either way, it gets him more flustered.

“Okay,” he says, and god can he get any dumber? Suga cracks the widest, truest thing to his real grin Daichi's seen yet and lightly throws the little volleyball at his head.

“Go do your homework and leave so you don't get my sick germs,” he chastises, but there's no sternness in his tone.

“Fine,” Daichi concedes, heading toward the door, “But if you're not back soon, I'm going to go insane.”

It's only as he closes the door that Suga says, “I miss you, too.” But it's too late for either of them to see the redness in the other's face.

 

**Author's Note:**

> lmao, nerds


End file.
